Breathe
by elisheva
Summary: After Sara is missing, where to begin?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Characters just borrowed, not mine own.**

Breathe, he demanded of his body. That simple command. Breathe in. Breathe out. Think of nothing else. Of nothingness except expanding then collapsing of the lungs.

But his mind, that brilliant mind that loved solving problems wouldn't allow him to divert his attention. That mind jumped from that single thought of breathing to that of the subject he had been frantically trying to avoid. Of the news he had received fifteen long minutes ago. Since then he had struggled to keep a precious hold of his calm. Panic, however, was creeping in around him.

The news in and of itself was a harsh reality enough. One of the members of his team he supervised had been taken hostage and was presumed to be in a life-threatening situation. But this wasn't just a member of his team. To him, she was so much more and a shiver of apprehension ran through his chilled body as his name popped into his tortured mind. Sara.

Sara was a colleague, a friend, and most recently, a lover. He had wasted so much time procrastinating before she finally convinced him to take a chance on a budding relationship. And now. Now he might lose her because of the whelms of a clinically insane deviant.

He balled his hands into a fist, letting his short fingernails jab into the tender skin of his palm to draw his fleeting attention away from the problem and to a solution. His mind protested, stating a chant that he didn't know where Sara could possibly be, that the clues were a ambiguous as any of the other ones from this particular criminal. That the only models they had received before had been of a crime already done, the victim already dead.

No. He had to believe in his team of investigators, to trust that they will lead them to find his Sara, their Sara. He wouldn't allow his thoughts to travel down the 'what if' road. They would find her. Alive.

There was a knock on his office door and he could hear his other female CSI calling to him. He sent a brief, silent prayer heavenward then stood up.

It was show time.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Characters just borrowed, not mine own.**

Catherine Willows felt herself pause, unwilling to acknowledge the shock. She had been a part of this particular CSI team through the odds. She had survived stripping to earn her way to a degree in criminal investigation and she lucked out when she received a spot on Gil Grissom's team. She had managed when the team expanded to include Warwick Brown and Nick Stokes.

Catherine considered the rough patch the team hit when Holly was hires and subsequently murdered. Gil brought in Sara to investigate the death and the only person who fully accepted her was Gil himself. Catherine would have been the first to admit that Sara Sidle hadn't meshed well with their group.

Yet Sara remained. And against her own inhibitions Cath had gradually began to accept her into their inner circle. And against Cath's advice Sara had created quite a schoolgirl's crush for Gris.

Cath stood in the common area where her team generally gathered to accept guidance from Gris. She had been witness mere moments ago when Gil had received the latest model, this one containing a moving doll with the lifelike CSI jacket. Deep down, as much as she prayed, Cath knew the model depicted Sara Sidle, trapped under the overturned vehicle.

How? her analytical mind asked but it really didn't matter.

Finding Sara in time was the only thing that mattered now.

Catherine took a moment to simply marvel at how much a girl like Sara had grown to mean to her and the team.

Time to solve the puzzle and get Sara back to them. Catherine knocked on Gris' door, squaring her shoulders and drawing a deep breath.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Characters just borrowed, not mine own.**

Warwick Brown stood in the locker room preparing for another night of intense Las Vegas crime.

Warwick had lived in Vegas all his life and had the perspective of Vegas life from the start, hard Vegas style of hard life with no payoff. At one point Brown had felt the need to pull that handle. But no more.

No more.

Warwick had experienced the rush of the pull and then the fleeting satisfaction before he craved it again. Now, after these long years, he felt he had conquered his demons and found his purpose in the Vegas ebb of life. He had come a long way from those days on the beat when he blamed himself every passing minute for CSI Holly's death. What was years later Warwick Brown was finally comfortably aware that the past ghosts were where they belonged.

He only wished that was where his current case would be. The serial murderer who had been dubbed the Miniature Killer was wearing on his professional and personal life. Unfortunately his home life wasn't as separate of his work as he would have been comfortably with. His marriage was showing the shaky foundation it had been built upon and each day the case was left unsolved the cracks in the concrete were more evident.

He sighed and hoped tonight would be the night. He closed his locker and looked up as his teammate Nick Stokes entered the room.

"See you in a few," he offered as a greeting and made his way to the conference room. Breathing in the familiar scents of the labs, Warwick steeled himself for the unknown elements of the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Characters just borrowed, not mine own.**

Nick Stokes felt the burn in his stomach when he stepped foot inside his work building and it made him fell uneasy. Something was wrong. Instinctively he looked down at his cell but there was nothing on the screen to show anything wasn't as it should be. So Nick shook his head to empty the heavy feeling and went to the locker room to shuck his personal things. He nodded at Warwick, threw his wallet down in his locker for save keeping, then went the familiar route to the room where his supervisor, Gil Grissom, would pass out their specific assignments to the crimes that warranted an investigation from the night team.

He walked into the room to see his team standing grimly around the table and the worry solidified once more. "Guys?"

Three pairs of eyes looked towards him but the centerpiece on the table drew his attention. Another model, a mini like the others housed in Grissom's office, the evidence of the unsolved crime.

Two things struck Nick about the model as he took a step closer. One was a sick familiarity of the exposed clothes on the plastic figure. The other was the striking difference between this model and the others- this one was moving. A tiny hand moving from under the red car as if trying to get purchase on the sand to move the rest of the body out.

Nick looked in horror at Gris, Cath, and Warwick, then said the first thing that dawned on him. "Where's Sara?"

Catherine and Warwick turned pale while Grissom looked like he was about to be sick, judging from the shade of green.

The moving hand grabbed Nick's attention once more and his fear and Texas temper made him lash out, grabbing the model and forcibly throwing it against the wall in hopes to stop the movement.

Immediately hands reached out to grab a hold of his upper body.

"Nicky," he heard Cath say, "we'll find her. Just stay calm. Just breathe."

Good advice.

Just breathe.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Characters just borrowed, not mine own.**

She had transcended past anger, she allowed herself to acknowledge. She was scared.

Had she ever been this scared before? She couldn't remember but she was sure if she did remembered any situations that equaled this one it wouldn't help her this particular moment. Or her nerves.

Was this really it? Was she prepared to let go of her life if she ended up dying here? She was young but her years being a seer of death showed it didn't discriminate when it came to age.

No. She would not allow herself to think about that. She couldn't die here. Surely God couldn't...wouldn't be that cruel. She was finally at a place in her life where she was truly happy.

Happiness. It was so fleeting in a person's life. You get used to the feeling then it disappears and you wonder if you will ever feel the emotion again. She had such a difficult time growing up in her home. There were times when she doubted in her ability to find happiness or a normal life but most of all she doubted in herself. It wasn't until she was able to escape her home and attend college that she found her identity and began to believe in herself again.

Then one seminar changed her perceptions. She elected to go on a whim and was blown away by the subject material and by the instructor himself.

She smiled a little at that thought. She had made her way to the front as he packed up his notes and prayed she didn't make a damn fool of herself. She introduced herself and asked him to grab a cup of coffee with her to discuss some points of his discussion.

Much to her surprise he agreed and they talked for so long the cafИ had to kick them out. She walked away from that lecture and the subsequent talk with a strong belief in what her career choice would be and who her mentor was.

She had been a CSI in Cali for several years before it seemed to pay off. She and Grissom had communicated with one another periodically but it still come as a shock to learn she was his pick to analyze the murder of a CSI that happened on Grissom's watch. She knew going into that job she would be stepping on people's toes but an objective eye was needed and she knew even if Grissom endorsed her, she would be the odd man out.

During the investigation she acted as if it rolled right off her. She understood that she was on the outside looking in. She understood their hostility- especially the one she was investigating, Warwick Brown. She wasn't as willing to outlook the plain cattiness of Catherine Willow but she decided since it was only a little while she would let Cath stay unchallenged as Alpha. She was only going to be there for a few weeks.

Grissom was supportive and at the end of her tenure in Las Vegas he offered her the chance of a life time- working for his team in Vegas. She was thrilled. She was enamored with her mentor and relished the chance to pick his brain. What she soon discovered was that although Warwick received a slight slap of the wrist, she was not greeted with open arms. More like closed fists and snarky words from tight-lipped mouths. Only Grissom was friendly but his idea of friendly consisted of mutual 'geek' talk and showing off his bug collection.

She shifted a little, trying to ease the stabbing radiculopathy of her legs. She didn't know how bad she was injury-wise but she could tell it wasn't good, judging by the shallowness of her breath and the black stars that were getting used to swimming in front of her half closed brown eyes.

Her face was turned towards the nearest daylight and she had crept her arm out towards the sand and sun but she knew it was useless. She was pinned and hurt badly. Her eyes started to close lethargically and she mentally shook her head, trying to stay awake.

Greg had really been the first to accept her and that had mixed feelings about it. She could tell Greg Sanders had a crush on her but she tried to discourage it. Greg was nice and cute but he was not her type. She realized soon after who really was her type and she tried to hide it from everyone, including the very one she crushed on, Grissom.

To her, Grissom stood for stability in a chaotic world, an intelligent in a declining society. Someone who was unreal because he seemed above the human species.

She moved slightly and her entire body hurt. A tear streamed out of her eye and mixed with the sand and dirt that her cheek was being pressed into because of the way the car frame was on her. Think good thoughts, she told herself.

She focused on Grissom and that special moment when she realized he was returning her affection. Their first kiss was amazing and she smiled a little through her pain as she remembered the feeling when his soft lips connected with hers. He seemed hesitant at first but as soon as she decided to up the ante he heated up the kiss.

She was still amazed at how easy it was to hide the relationship from the people who were closest to them. They only saw what they wanted to, it seemed.

That brought her attention to her surroundings once more. The small part she could see. It was sand. God, a random desert. They were a dime a dozen in Nevada.

Her breath hitched as she realized her odds of being found was small. Was this what Nick felt when he was buried alive?

The fear sapped her energy and she fought with her eyelids and lungs.

She lost the fight with her eyelids and settled on unclenching her fist around the sand, dirt, and glass.

It was harder to get a good breath. She wondered again the extent of her internal injuries. She was so tired. Maybe she could just rest until it was later.

Maybe the sleep would regenerate her.

As long as she remembered to breathe.

In and out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.


End file.
